


Killed is A Bit of A Strong Word

by thosewhofall



Series: Moriarty TRIES to ruin everything. [1]
Category: James Bond (Movies), Sherlock (TV), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Bondlock, M/M, Q Holmes, Shh just read it, its not that many sads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 20:49:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thosewhofall/pseuds/thosewhofall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bomb blows up MI6 Headquarters on Christmas Eve. There weren't very many people there, but there were people there that mattered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Killed is A Bit of A Strong Word

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I don't own shit. And this is a Partner to 'What A Sociopath Is Made Of' which will be up soon, Read this one first!

It was Christmas and they were on skeleton shifts. There were only as many agents at Headquarters as there actually had to be, and in hindsight it would prove to be a good thing. Most of the agents there were unmarried. They didn’t have families; they didn’t have people that cared about them aside from friends and coworkers. They were the soldiers of the Queen, and yet they were destined to die here, at headquarters, from the blast of a bomb that collapsed half of it. Anyone who didn’t die in the initial shock, probably died in the aftermath. It took days to dig through to anyone that had survived and by then they were gone.  


The funeral had been a large affair, nearly a week after the initial bombing. Construction had restarted and MI6 had absolutely no clue who could possibly have done this. They’d been through it twice in as many years and the power of their enemies had some of the higher-ups shaking in their boots.  


M was under scrutiny, as the old M had been, from agents and the government. Paperwork was being done by hand now thanks to a crushed technology room. It meant to get anything done, M had to come into the office early in the morning and not leave until well after dark.  


He jumped when he heard the voice, his locked office still dark. “How many total?”  


M shook his head, sitting at his desk, looking through the files, “Twelve, eight agents, three support staff…and…” He flicked on the lights.  


“What was he even doing there?” The other man’s voice was deadly quiet, anger and pain all too audible with in it.  


“No one knows. We only found his glasses, 007. Maybe he forgot them.”  


“He’s blind without them.” James said, pushing the chair back violently. “He’d never forget them, Q doesn’t forget things. He also doesn’t go into work on Christmas for no reason, so tell me the truth, M, why was Q there?” He leaned over the desk, his hands crumpling the edges of M’s desk calendar.  


“I asked him to run a program.” M said, eyes away from Bond’s angry crystalline ones, “How was I supposed to know that a madman was going to try to blow up Headquarters!”  


Bond stepped back. “If he isn’t alive, M, and I can’t find the man who did kill him, It’s your head I’m coming for.”  


M didn’t have the bravery to call his bluff.  


Bond’s phone beeped as he walked out of headquarters.  


I KNOW WHO DID IT – SH  


He stared at the text message, and then grabbed a cab, directing it to 221B Baker Street.  


“How can you know who did it?” Bond asked, eyeing Sherlock Holmes warily. The man was mad, absolutely mad, and any interact that Bond had with him previously had been prompted by Q, who for some reason had no desire to see the man ever again.  


“Because he had me killed too.”  


Bond blinked, “I’m sorry, did you just say he had you killed?”  


“Yes, goodness for an MI6 you don’t keep up very well. I shot him and he made me jump off a building. I don’t know what Q has done to get on his radar but it’s not very difficult, especially if he has something Moriarty wants.”  


Bond stared, “So you killed him, jumped off of a building, and you’re standing here talking to me and you think he killed Q.”  


“Killed is a strong word.” Had James not been a trained MI6 agent, he would have jumped, been spooked, instead he just closed his eyes for a moment, nail cutting into the skin of his hand to make sure this wasn’t a dream, “I prefer to say tried.”  


“Your glasses.” Bond managed, rotating to look at Q.  


Q had some bruising along the side of his face and a cut eyebrow, his arm was in a sling and his hair was messy. He had glasses on his face, “Did you think I only owned one pair? I thought you knew me better than that, Bond.” He smiled, “I’m okay, James.”  


Bond grabbed him, his arm wrapping around the side opposite the sling, crushing him to his chest, kissing the top of his head, “It’s been a week, you couldn’t have said something?” He asked brokenly.  


Q stroked the side of Bond’s face, “It’s okay.” He whispered, “I’m okay. I couldn’t ruin it for Moriarty just yet. He still thinks he’s won, but he’s questioning because I’m just missing. I’m going to let him wait in agony until I recover.”  


Bond nodded, “And then what.”  


Q’s face cracked into a smile that made Bond shudder, “And then you’re going to teach me to kill so next time the bastard tries to hurt me or my family, I can kill him.”  
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with, Quinn.” Sherlock said, amused from the kitchen table.  


“You don’t know who I’ve dealt with.” Q replied, “And I’ve told you not to call me that.”  


“It’s your name.” Sherlock replied, “And trust me, even compared to psychopaths like Silva, Moriarty is dangerous.”  


Bond gripped Q tighter, “He’s never met me.”  


This made Sherlock look up, cocking his head to the side, “That’s quite true, Mr. Bond, quite true indeed.” He smiled, and then looked back at his paper.  
“I think he just complimented you.” Q said, smiling. “I’m sorry I had you worried.”  


“Oh just wait til M finds out you’re alive. He’s going to pitch a fit he’s had to do paperwork by hand.” Bond smiled, leaning his forehead against Q’s. “How did you get out?”  
“I have toys of my own, Bond.” He rested his hand against James’ face and leaned up to kiss him, “I am the Quartermaster, after all.”


End file.
